Devil's Night
by crocious
Summary: For the first time in years, the annual Halloween party is at Austria's house. And for the first time in years, Prussia has a channel for his unnatural hatred for Specs. Bad Touch Trio, ASSEMBLE!
1. Intro music:Bowling for Soup or somethin

**GUYS! I am SO sorry about the wait! I've just moved into my dorm room so it's been a little hectic lately -_-'**

**BRIGHT SIDE: British roomie has magnificent Igg brows and we're totally getting along like cake and ice cream!**

**This fic is my fist multichap since Triple Dog Dare because I effing love me some Gillikins. Sit tight, guys, you're in for a treat!**

**(Updates will be less frequent now that I'm at school... Sorry)**

_Diary of Awesomeness and Excellentitude! Plans are in motion for Operation "Come-up-with-your-own-creative-name-fool!" (France named it.) Austria totally won't even know what hit him, kesese! It's the most ingenious plan in the world! My disguise is set, the boys are waiting to move out and the trebuchet is-_

"GILBERT!" Germany called his brother from down the hall. Prussia jumped and dropped his pen under his bed.

"YEAH?" he yelled back as he fumbled under to hide his diary.

Germany opened the door. "We're leaving in twenty minutes for the party. Do you have your costume?"

Prussia hopped off his bed and into the waiting wheelchair. He slipped on a round pair of glasses and a single black glove. "_Ja_," he smirked.

Germany stared at Prussia in horror. "Nein. Gilbert, you are not going as Doctor Strangelove."

"Ja," Gilbert said.

"Nein."

"...ja."

"Gilbert," Germany sighed. "We've _just_ gotten to the point where not everybody in the world thinks we want to kill them again. For the love of God, please go as something else."

"But West!" Prussia cried. "The wheelchair is integral to my dastardly pl- I mean, cuddly plans!"

Germany's eyes widened. "Bruder, don't you dare try to do anything to sabotage this party. Just because the Halloween party's at Austria's house this year doesn't mean you can wreck the day for everyone."

"Geez, West! Who said anything about ruining the party?"

"You said you had dastar-"

"Lies! You are a liar, sir!"

Germany sighed. "I have to go put on my costume. No Nazi-Tourettes. You're going as Stephen Hawking."

"Who's that?"

Germany sniggered. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

Italy called from within the house for Germany. Germany turned once more to his brother. "I mean it, Gil. No tricks tonight. First sign I see of anything out of the ordinary, I'm taking you home."

"Fine!" Prussia yelled. "Geez, as if I would! You have no faith in me, West!"

"Very little, in fact," Germany said as he walked out to find Italy.

Prussia waited until after Germany was gone. He grabbed the pen from under his bed and scribbled in his diary.

_And no one suspects a thing!_

_..._

"P-Papa?" Canada called to France behind the bedroom door. "Are you almost ready?"

"Patience, _Mathieu,_" France called back as he slipped his glove on, hiding a pocketknife in the palm. "Perfection takes time."

"I know," Canada said nervously, hugging Kumajiro tighter. "It's just that the party's in twenty minutes. And I promised to meet Alfred ten minutes ago to go pick out candy to bring."

France opened the door dramatically and sighed against the door frame. "That brother of yours is such a bad influence," France said, pressing a gloved hand to his forehead.

Canada, caught by surprise by the costume, snickered. "What are you supposed to be?"

France straightened indignantly. "What are you talking about? Isn't it obvious?"

"Er-"

"MAAAATTTTTTIIIEEEE!" The primal scream was quickly followed by a loud shattering from downstairs and a dull thud. Canada was torn between annoyance at his brother's destructive idiocy and relief that he didn't have to answer France's question.

France was torn between anger that America broke his window and... actually, no. He wasn't torn. Just angry.

"Alfred!" Canada called, clutching Kumajiro closer to his chest and eliciting a confused "Who're you?" from the little bear. "Alfred, we're upstairs!"

With all the grace of a blind and deaf bull in a tiny, flying china cabinet, America barrelled up the stairs to find his brother. He landed, panting and bruised, on the top step.

"Hey, Alfred," Canada said calmly at the brilliantly colored hero.

"Hey, Matt."

"AMERICA!"

"_Really_?" Canada yelled at Kumajiro. "_Him_ you remember?"

"Who're you?"

Canada sighed in frustration. France coughed demurely and hid behind the door.

"I wish you wouldn't destroy my house, _cher_. It costs money, you know."

"Maybe if you wouldn't lure my little brother to your creepy lair of... creepy and pedoness..."

"Pedoness?"

"Then I wouldn't have to break in!" America finished triumphantly.

Canada snorted. "You just wanted to try out the shield."

America grinned. "It totally works!"

"Shield?" France asked from behind the door.

"I'm Captain America!" America beamed through his blue spandex and mask of excellence. "I'm awesome!"

France looked questioningly at Canada, who shook his head as if to say, "don't even ask."

"Anyway," America said. "I've rescued my brother from the fiendish pedo-clutches of my nemesis, Snail-Licker. Throw on your costume, bro, and we'll get out of here. I picked up some candy on the way."

"Ooh, did you get Kit-Kats?"

"What am I, stupid? Of course I got Kit-Kats!"

"You kids have fun," France said from behind the door. "I need to put on some finishing touches."

"Creeper," America barked down the hall. "Are you even gonna say hi to me? Come out!"

France stepped out from behind the door and the blue-masked hero immediately burst into laughter.

"What the hell are you _wearing_? Hahaha!"

France fumed. "It's a historical piece, _Alfred_. Some of us have a rich cultural history that we're proud of."

"Oh!" Canada brightened. "I get it! You're Marie Antoinette!"

"What?" France said, hurt, as America fell on the floor in laughter. "No! I'm Louis XVI! Marie Antoinette was Austrian!"

"Subtle hint," Canada said sarcastically. "You're going to try to seduce Austria, aren't you?"

"Wait a second," France said, annoyed. "This isn't even women's clothing! This is men's royal attire from the 19th century!"

"If you say so, Papa."

"It is!"

...

Spain tied the mask around his head and grinned in the mirror. "Hey, good looking," he smiled.

"Quit talking to yourself," came an annoyed Italian accent. "We're late, bastard."

Spain turned around and gave Romano his best Zorro grin. He wasn't sure if Zorro was the grinny _type, _but he did it anyway. "How do I look, my little _tomate_?"

Romano folded his arms over his uncostumed chest and huffed. "Like an idiot," he said. "Will you hurry?"

Spain unsheathed his sword with a flourish and brushed a lock of hair out of Romano's face with it. "Relax, Lovi. We have plenty of time. Besides, I thought you didn't even want to go?"

Romano flushed. "I _don't_, Halloween is stupid."

"Then what's the rush?"

"I don't like being late!"

Spain laughed and traced Romano's face with the cool steel so the sword tip rested uneasily on his shoulder. "You were three hours late to dinner last night. When I asked why you yelled at me and said I was early."

Romano rolled his eyes. "_You're_ different. I don't care if I mess up _your_ day."

"Ouch."

"Can we please go now?"

Spain tapped Romano's shoulder with the sword. "Get into your costume first."

"I told you, I'm not wearing a costume!"

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm really not."

Spain traced the slender blade up Romano's throat. "Yes you are."

Romano sighed, annoyed. "You're too old to play with fake swords. Put it away and let's go."

Something dark danced across Spain's eyes and he grinned. Suddenly, with the deft grace of some sort of ninja/tiger hybrid, he slashed his sword across Romano's chest three times and the Italian squeaked in paralyzed fear.

"Darn," Spain smirked as he sheathed the sabre. "Your sweater. It's ruined. I guess you _have_ to wear your costume now."

Romano trembled wordlessly and looked down at his torn sweater. He paled at the graceful "A" in his chest and wiped away a tiny droplet of blood.

"Oh my god!" Spain screamed, the mysterious macho air gone completely. "Romano, are you _bleeding_? Hang in there, my darling _tomate_! We'll get you to a hospital! _DON'T DIE ON ME!"_

"Put me down, bastard, I'll put on your fucking costume! Just chill out and get in the car!"


	2. The plot thickens like lemon custard

**Yes, yes, Cro, we missed you. Tears, love, glory, awesome. I missed you too, my favorite pandas. Except I don't cry about it.**

**College, unpacking, hotter'n'hell, roomie's home for the weekend, no effing air conditioning, wishing for an ice cream bath, too effing hot. How are you?**

**This one is shorter. I have decided on bitty chaps this go around, rather than mega chaps like last time. So, updates should be quicker than I thought. Tell me I'm awesome, I never get sick of it.**

**Woo!**

"GAW, Germany, why can't I drive to the party?"

Ludwig peered over his sunglasses at his brother. "Seriously? You have to ask?"

Prussia pouted in the wheelchair. "That was six years ago. Let it go, West!"

"Six years, two lawsuits and 30,000 euros ago. The answer is no."

"Whatever. Your costume is stupid."

Germany looked down at his blue clothes and painted skin. "What are you talking about? This is clever!"

"A pun is not clever. No one's gonna get that you're a Body of Water, dude."

Germany blushed. "Shut up, idiot. At least I'm not asking you to go as Preiss and Bayer* again this year."

"Do you even know what Halloween means?"

Germany and Prussia bickered until Italy finally came waddling out of the house in a ridiculous fabric tube. "I'm all ready, Germany! Let's go!"

"Feli!" Gilbert cried. "Germany won't let me drive!"

Italy looked down at Prussia, confused. "Eh? But Prussia, you're in a wheel chair! You can't drive!"

A grin slowly spread across Prussia's face. "Hey... you're right! Feli, you're the smartest pasta I know!"

"I'm penne!" Italy beamed.

"You sure are!"

...

"I don't know what you didn't wanna wear it," Spain said to Romano as he drove to Austria's house. "You look adorable!"

"I hate you."

"Why? You're Michelangelo!"

"Why do you think the greatest Rennaissance artist was some stupid turtle?" Romano crossed his arms. "When you say Michelangelo, you think Sistine Chapel. Or David. But you don't fucking think mutated American sewer creature!"

"But pizza, Romano! You like pizza!"

"GAH!" Romano smacked his orange-masked face in exasperation.

"Relax, Lovi! You're a cute little turtle!"

Romano groaned. "You should have warned me that you would do something idiotic like this."

Spain winked through his Zorro mask at Romano. "You should have assumed. At least you're a ninja. Ninjas are cool."

Romano leaned back in his shell and crossed his arms. "I hate you."

...

By the time France's car pulled into Austria's enormous driveway, Spain and Prussia had already been sitting outside for ten minutes, waiting.

"Dude!" Prussia shouted at Francis before the door even opened. "What the hell? You're late!"

Spain followed Prussia's wheelchair happily. He grinned until France's car door opened.

"Eh?" Spain's face fell. "Francis? What are you wearing?"

Prussia looked at the Frenchman and burst into violent laughter.

"HAHAHAHA! France, dude, great costume! You look ridiculous!"

France reddened. "This is a PERIOD PIECE, you fool! From the Revolution!"

"Oh!" Spain said. "You're Marie Antoinette! But she was Austrian, Francis."

Francis opened his mouth to protest, but Prussia looked like he was going to hurt himself leaning back in the wheel chair so far to laugh. He sighed.

"Shut up, you moron," Francis said to Prussia. "Do you want to tell us why you told us to gear up like 'super-secret-spies?'"

"Yes," Spain agreed. "Why did you ask me to bring a real sword?"

"And my night vision goggles?"

"Okay," Prussia said. "First, I was totally kidding about the goggles, France, and the fact that you have them seriously scares the shit out of me."

France crossed his arms and blushed.

"Second," Prussia continued. "Isn't it obvious? We're destroying Austria's party."

...

"Elizaveta? Elizaveta!"

Hungary snapped herself out of her trance and looked at Austria. "Yes?"

Austria pushed his glasses up on his nose in annoyance. "My goodness, Elizaveta, you've been staring at that wall for two minutes. What has gotten into you?"

Hungary scowled at herself. "I'm sorry. I felt a great disturbance in the force."

"The what?"

"Where's Gilbert?"

...

"Gilbert, no," Spain groaned. "You do this all the time. Why can't we have one night of fun?"

"This IS fun," Prussia insisted. "We're gonna make his totally lame party into an awesome party of greatness and wonder! People are going to thank us!"

"How do you know the party is lame?" France asked.

"Because it's Specs," Prussia snapped. "And Specs doesn't _do_ party. Because he's got a stupid face."

"Looks pretty fun, Gilbert," Spain said, looking in the window at a group of laughing countries.

"They're totally faking," Prussia said. "There's no way they could be having fun."

France sighed. "_Mon ami_, is it possible that you want to ruin Austria's party because-"

"Nein," Prussia cut France off. "I just hate him."

"_Si_," Spain said. "But why?"

"Jeez, I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition," Prussia pouted.

"No one ever does," Spain grinned slyly.

"Will you guys please just help me?"

France sighed. "Fine. But not because you begged."

"I didn't beg!"

"I'm in too," Spain said. "You know I can't say no when you beg like that."

"I wasn't begging!" Prussia protested. "Awesome doesn't beg! Awesome is begged and begged and finally after hours of being begged humbly consents! I don't beg!"

"I humbly consent," said Spain.

"Only because you looked like you were about to cry," France teased.

"Goddammit!"

...

"I knew it," Hungary whispered to herself as she hid behind a car to spy on the trio. "The bastard IS planning something."

France and Spain laughed loudly and Prussia whined at them. Hungary adjusted her witch hat and scowled.

"Over my dead body."

**Oop! Almost forgot! *Preiss and Bayer is a stupid but popular German/English pun. It sounds like "Price and Buyer" and it means "Prussian and Bavarian." Also kind of made you think of that South Park episode where it was decided that Germans have the worst sense of humor in the world. AWKWAAAAARD!**


	3. A kitchen pun? Don't mind if i do!

**AIYAA! I can't believe it's taken me so long! And I wrote this in such a hurry, I didn't even send it to my beta! Just you! Sorry!**

**AH! Yes! I was doing my weekly Google search of myself (I don't even care if you judge me.) when I found out that someone put this story on Tumblr! Now, I don't pretend to know what "tumblr" is or how it works (I assume cheese and wizardry), but thank you very much to Harpsichordia! You are totally awesome!**

**Rate and review and I will respond between classes and working at the Chinese restaurant. Woo! College!**

"You know what?" Prussia shouted. "I don't even care why you guys think you're in. You're in."

France and Spain stopped snickering and looked at their friend.

"Fair enough," France said. "What is your plan of attack?"

Prussia sat straight up in his wheelchair. "Okay, so you know how Specs thinks he's hot shit on the piano?"

Spain moaned. "Gilbert, do you know how expensive those things are? If we get caught-"

"Ye of little faith," Prussia interrupted, waving his hand. "We won't _mutilate_ it. We'll just restring it."

France raised his hand. "I am not sure his piano works like your violin."

"What? Why wouldn't it? It has strings!"

"I just don't know if this will work."

Prussia rolled his eyes. "Please. How many awesome plans of mine _haven't_ worked?"

"How's the whole 'getting your country back' thing going for you?"

The three men shouted and jumped at the voice.

"LIZ!" Prussia yelled.

Elizaveta stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at the trio. A breeze ruffled through her black dress, and if Poland hadn't tailored it to look "omigawd, that's so adorable on you!" she would have looked downright menacing.

"What are you doing, Gilbert?"

"NOTHING!" Prussia yelled. "Jeez, go away!"

Hungary straightened her pointed hat. "For some reason I thought you were planning to ruin Austria's Halloween party. I'm glad we cleared that up."

France shuddered and Prussia glared at him. "Don't you dare surrender, you son of a bitch."

"I… I'm trying to fight it…"

"Francis, no! Don't give her anything!"

Elizaveta casually undid her top button. "Come on, Francis. You're a lover, not a fighter. Tell me what I want to hear."

"Nnng!" Francis went white and bit his lip.

"No!" Prussia yelled.

"Yes!" Hungary cackled.

"Antonio!" Prussia screamed. "Smoke bomb! Now!"

…

Hungary looked at the trio, confused. "Um. What?"

The three men looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Toni," Prussia growled. "I said smoke bomb her. What the hell are we still doing here?"

"Smoke bomb?" Spain said. "I don't have any of those."

Hungary sighed, annoyed. "Goddammit, Gilbert. What exactly did you think was going to happen?"

Prussia crossed his arms and sat back in his wheel chair. "Well," he said. "Toni was supposed to throw a smoke bomb at you. And then we were going to awesomely run away while you were blinded and stuff. And then we were going to rui-"

Francis threw a gloved hand over Prussia's mouth. "ROOT for Austria at the piano, yes, Gilbert?"

Prussia's eyes widened and he nodded vigorously. Hungary glared at him suspiciously.

"I'm not stupid. I know you hate Austria."

"Well, duh," Prussia said.

"But now's the time to tell me, if you're going to do something dangerous, Gilbert. I don't want anyone to get hurt tonight. Not Austria, not the guests, not… not you. Please. Tell me now. If it's something harmless and fun, I'll even help you. So tell me now, okay?"

Prussia met Hungary's gaze and his eyes softened. A breeze ruffled through her hair and the scent of strawberries tickled his nose. Hungary gave a little sideways smile Prussia remembered all the times they used to work together as kids and how much fun they'd had. And the sun cut through across the drive and brightened her face perfectly. Goddamn, she was beautiful in her black dress and that adorable purple hat…

"Gilbert!" Spain's voice sliced through the air. "No! It's a trap!"

Gilbert snapped back in alarm as Francis wheeled him away and breakneck speed.

"Whu…" he murmured as the trio ran.

"Damn you, Gilbert!" Liz screamed after them, all feminine allure lost. "I won't let anything happen to Austria! You hear me? I will stop you!"

…

When Prussia finally regained his senses, the trio was in a dark room. France and Spain held their sides and panted at Gilbert's side.

"What happened?" Prussia demanded.

"She… she was going to turn you," France wheezed.

"You were so… close," Spain panted. "She almost had you."

"Had me? What?"

France slapped Prussia's head. "You are such an idiot, _cher._"

Prussia blushed. "Screw you! I was fine!"

"Shhh!" Spain held his finger to his lips and whispered. "I think someone's coming!"

The doorknob slowly turned in the dark room and the trio held their breath. It creaked open slowly.

"Antonio!" the figure in the doorway shouted. "You bastard, I've been looking for you everywhere!"

Spain laughed at Romano in relief. "Lovi! Are you having fun?"

Romano slammed the door behind him and Prussia and France protested, hoping no one in the house heard the noise.

"No, Antonio, this party sucks! Why'd you leave me all alone with Feliciano, eh? You asshole!"

Prussia suddenly realized that Romano was wearing a turtle costume and he snickered. Romano glared at him.

"What's so funny, potato boy?"

"Dude," Prussia laughed. "You're a turtle! That's awesome!"

France swooned. "Oh, _mon amor_, you look so adorable! So, so, so cute!"

Spain threw an arm around Romano's shoulders protectively and held his clenched fist at his side. "Why are you not having any fun, Lovino?"

Romano rolled his eyes. "Austria is so boring! And pianos are so stupid!"

Prussia gasped. "Piano? Where is the piano, Romano?"

Romano looked at Prussia like he was stupid. "He's playing it in the drawing room, stupid. Where have you been?"

"But there are so many people in there!" Spain said. "We'll never have enough time!"

"Sorry, Gilbert," France said, putting a gloved hand on Prussia's shoulder. "We tried."

Prussia's eyes glinted. "We can do this, guys. All we need is a little _ninja skill._"

…

"Dude!" America yelled at England in the crowded drawing room as people around them chatted and laughed. "Have you seen Canada?"

"Alfred, I'm right here!"

"Oh," Captain America said, looking down at Bucky. "My bad. Sorry, bro!"

England rolled his eyes at the brothers and straightened his bowtie. "Alfred, you're an idiot. There's no such thing as Canada."

"I'm right here!"

America sipped his punch and looked England up and down. "What are you supposed to be, anyway?"

"I'm the Doctor," England smiled.

"Doctor who?"

Canada laughed and England jumped. "Who said that?"

America laughed loudly. "Hey, not that I'm worried or anything, but is Frog here yet?"

England looked confused. "Come to think of it, I haven't been molested yet tonight. I don't think anyone has."

"I hope he's alright," Canada mumbled.

A bang suddenly rang through the room and everyone looked at the door.

"Goddammit," shouted an Italian voice. "What the hell am I supposed to do!"

The door whispered at the giant turtle.

"I'm not doing that!" the turtle shouted. "Let me back out!"

The door whispered again.

"Or else what?" the turtle challenged.

The door continued to whisper at the turtle, who grew white. He gulped.

"F-fine!" Romano shouted. "Fine, I will!"

Romano turned to face the crowd of curious costumes. He blushed.

"C-can someone teach me how to D-Dougie?"

…

Austria played on, oblivious to the crowd around the door. The piano tumbled around his fingertips, music dancing in the air, and he smiled. Anyone who couldn't appreciate the delicate art of piano, the sensual blending of harmony and melody, the thrill of perfection… well, they could go play beat boxing, or whatever it was kids did these days.

"Ahhh." A sigh interrupted Austria's thoughts and his fingers paused over the keys.

France, in his powdered face and wig, smiled seductively at Austria. "Do not stop playing, _ma couer_. I love Mozart."

"France," Austria said coolly, standing up. "How good of you to come. Please, help yourself to some refreshments."

"Don't mind if I do," France chuckled, closing in on Austria.

"Please tell me you aren't…"

"Louis XVI," France murmured. "And here I thought you wouldn't remember."

Austria turned white. "I h-have to go check on the cakes…"

"Oh, let me come," France winked. "I'm very _handy_ in the kitchen."

"E-Elizaveta?" Austria called. Hungary broke away from the crowd watching Captain America and Bucky dancing like idiots and came to her ex husband's side. She glared suspiciously at France.

"What are you doing?"

"Roderich and I are going to the kitchen," France grinned. "We are going to get sweet."

"_The_ sweets," Austria hurriedly corrected.

France chuckled.

Hungary's eyes widened. "Oh! Let me come with you, I can help."

France looked at her distastefully. "Oh, I'm sure that will not be necessary. Roderich and I are both very skilled in the kitchen."

"No, no," Hungary said, walking out of the room. "I'm sure there's a lot I can learn from you. I insist."

Austria followed her, relieved. France gave a thumbs-up to a potted tree and followed out of the room.

Prussia and Spain popped out of the tree inconspicuously.

"Ha!" Prussia laughed. "Phase one: Distraction! Success!"

Spain smiled. "Lovi is so cute when he dances, isn't he?"

"Yeah, yeah," Prussia said, rolling toward the piano. "Adorable. Help me lift this lid."

They heaved against the heavy lid and peered into the depths of the piano.

They gasped.

"I," Prussia murmured, "Have no idea how this works."

…

"So," Hungary said as France pointedly sucked frosting off his fingers. "Where's Gilbert?"

France looked away from Austria. "Gilbert? I am not sure. I heard the melodious magic of Austria's music and I had to come find him. You know, _Symphony 40_ was written for a French woman, Roderich. Mozart himself was very taken with the French tradition of Love."

"None of that is true," Austria sighed, smoothing the frosting on a cake.

Hungary eyed France suspiciously. "I'm going to reapply my makeup."

"Take your time!" France chuckled. Austria looked at her pleadingly as she turned away.

…

"There's so many," Spain said, awestruck.

"Damn it, they all look the same! And where do they even connect?"

Spain reached into the piano. "Ah, here. It's the tightening thingy, yes? We can just loosen it until it comes out."

"And reattach it where?" Prussia said. "This looks like dark sorcery. I can't defeat dark sorcery!"

Spain loosened the string. "Wow, these are in here tight!"

"Gilbert!"

Spain and Prussia froze at the sound of Hungary's voice. The dancers by the door looked at them.

"Gilbert," Spain whispered as Hungary stormed over to them. "What do we do?"

"Simple… we… RUN!"

Spain whooped and wheeled Gilbert out of the room. Gilbert cackled as Hungary shook her fist at them.

"Gilbert, come back here! You know I can't run in heels!"

Poland, dressed like Edward Cullen, hugged Hungary from behind. "Lizzy, don't even. Those shoes are too cute to ruin."

Hungary sighed. "Oh, Po. Why do you always dress like a woman?"

"Glitter is fun!"

…

When Austria emerged from the kitchen (only partially molested,) he was greeted by a crowd of nations dancing to "Thriller" from Japan's stereo. His eye twitched in annoyance.

When they'd finally finished, they fell over each other, laughing. Even Hungary had joined the lines of witches, ghosts and pasta (the turtle was sipping punch moodily, refusing to watch them.) They gravitated away and Austria sat back down to his piano and played Haydn.

The other nations coughed uncomfortably and resumed boring conversation. The tone of the room was suddenly subdued. France stood at the door and watched.

Suddenly, a note rang out flat.

The music stopped. Austria looked at his fingers in confusion.

He tried to play the phrase again, but the note ended flat. He stood up in alarm.

"What on earth?"

The nations were silent as Austria lifted the piano lid and touched each of the strings in turn.

"Oh… oh no."

"What happened?" Hungary asked, panicked.

"Middle C… it's been loosened."

"What's that mean?" America shouted.

"It means I need tune my piano."

"How long should that take?"

Austria looked at the clock. "I'd say… just about two hours. To do it properly."

The guests groaned.

"Seriously?"

"Come on, it's not even that important."

"Jeez, that's lame."

In the middle of the hullabaloo, Japan quietly raised his hand.

"Pardon me," he said.

Everyone looked at the white kitty and he blushed.

"I-I have a karaoke machine in my car. I-if we n-need music, I can bring it in."

The room laughed and patted Japan on the back.

"That's a great idea, dude!" America yelled.

"That sounds like fun!" said Italy.

"Karaoke was invented in Korea!"

A short panda hit South Korea with a wok.

France chewed his lip thoughtfully as he left the room to meet his friends at the rendezvous point.

"I can't believe that worked," he murmured.


	4. Squirt even SOUNDS gross

**WAHHHHH! I'm so sorry about how late this is! I feel like a failure! But it's long, okay? Still friends?**

**Happy Birthday to Boss Iggs!**

**Ugh. If I ever have to type the word "squirt" again I might throw up. But AVPM reference if you're into that!**

**Own nothing! Hail Prussia!**

"Okay," Prussia grumbled to Spain. "That didn't work. What now?"

"How about this?" Spain suggested. "We glue a coin to the floor. And when Austria bends down to pick it up, he won't be able to!"

Prussia looked at Spain. "I'm disappointed in you."

"No, get it?" Spain laughed. "It's funny because he's a penny pincher!"

Prussia facepalmed. "No, we need something awesome. That's kid stuff! What can we do that will both piss of Specs and make the party more awesome?"

Spain and Prussia thought for a moment. Spain looked up.

"Alcohol?"

"Alcohol!"

Just then, France burst into the room. "_Mon Dieu!_ You will not believe-"

"Dude," Prussia said. "You're late."

"I'm sorry," France said. "I was-"

"Save the graphic details for later," Prussia said. "We're hatching our plans."

"Be _very_ graphic later," Spain winked. "But right now, help us figure out how to slip alcohol into Austria's drink."

France bit his lip. "Get Austria drunk? Is that so wise?"

Prussia cackled. "I can take that asshole with one hand tied behind my back. I'm not afraid of him picking a fight!"

…

Hungary crept through the dark hallway, carrying her shoes in case she had to run. She heard the familiar obnoxious voices and held her breath, straining her ears to listen.

A few words popped out. "Graphic." "Austria." "Asshole."

She blushed and knelt by the door to hear more.

…

"But why?" France asked. "Why get him drunk if he's just going to pick a fight? That will not improve the party."

Gilbert smirked. "Remember Marie Antoinette? Good things happen to you when Austria drinks."

Francis colored under his white makeup.

"It's also really funny," Spain chuckled. "When we were married, I used to slip an extra something in his drink before bed. Those clothes came off faster than Italy's at siesta!"

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "That sounds pretty illegal, Toni."

"Does that mean we're not doing it?" Francis asked.

"Oh, no," Prussia grinned. "We're doing it even _more_ now!"

There was a sudden shout outside the door. "Ve! Lizzy! Have you seen Prussia?"

The door shushed Italy violently. "Shh! Feli, what are you doing here?" Hungary's voice whispered.

"Doitsu told me to check on Gilbert," Italy's voice said, blissfully loud. "I can't find him anywhere!"

Spain and Francis were already out the window, lifting Prussia in his wheel chair into the garden.

"Wow," Prussia said. "Dude does _not_ get espionage."

"Good thing, too," Spain grunted as he set the wheelchair on the ground.

By the time Hungary barged into the room and noticed the open window, the trio was already hidden behind various bushes. She cursed.

"Gilbert, I know you're out there! I'm not letting you do anything graphic to Roderich's asshole, dammit!"

The shouting woke up a man dozing on the lawn. Greece adjusted his kitty ears and looked up at Hungary in the window.

"Elizaveta…" he said slowly. "Why are you… talking about Austria's asshole?"

Hungary let out a "yeep!" and slammed the window shut, embarrassed.

The trio came out of their hiding places and regrouped as Greece laid back down for a nap.

"That was close," Gilbert said. "Thank God for Feli."

"Right," Spain grinned. "Anyway, where are we going to get alcohol? I didn't bring any."

"Nor I," France said.

"Ye of little faith," Prussia smiled. He took a flask out of his jacket and waved it. "Prussia is always packing."

France took the flask and opened it. "This is beer," he said distastefully.

"You put beer in a flask?" Spain giggled.

"Yeah. Why?"

France sighed. "Will you ever learn subtlety? Beer does not mix with anything without tasting like beer. Also, it's half gone."

"Whoops," Gilbert grinned.

Spain sighed. "There is another option," he said. "But you're not going to like it very much."

…

"No," Prussia said "No, I am NOT talking to him. No way. I don't even care about the alcohol anymore."

Spain and France pointed at the giant man in the bear costume. Russia sat in a nearly empty room talking to Latvia, dressed like a puppy. One of them was thrilled about the situation. The other was Latvia.

"You know he always carries a gallon of vodka on him," Spain said. "Just ask for a bottle."

"No!" Prussia said. "You do it!"

"No way, dude, that bastard is terrifying!"

Prussia looked imploringly at France, but he had run away to the other end of the hall and was peering from behind a decorative plant.

"There's gotta be another way," Prussia said.

"We need his vodka, Gilbert," Spain said. "Just ask for a bottle and get out of there. It won't be so bad."

"FINE!" Prussia said finally. "Fine, I'll do it! Just because I hate Austria!"

Prussia angrily rolled his wheelchair into the room to talk to Russia. France came up behind Spain and they shared a sigh.

"That boy is an idiot," France said.

"I wish he realized how transparent he is," Spain agreed.

…

Prussia glared at the floor as he rolled into the room. He wasn't sure why Specs had so many sitting rooms and why all the color schemes were a snobby aristocratic red, but he hated everything about it as he rolled up to the couch. He heard that horrible, hated, guttural chuckle that still gave him nightmares and his nails bit into his palms.

"Kolkolkolkol," Russia chuckled. "Look, Latvia. It is Little Prussia, come to visit with us! How very nice!"

Latvia trembled, his brown puppy ears shaking. "Eh…heheheh… Hi, Prussia."

Prussia resisted the urge to spit on Russia and run away. "Hey, guys. How's it going?"

"Very well, isn't that right, Latvia?"

"Erp!"

"Latvia has agreed to come visit me for Christmas! We have been discussing it!"

Latvia's eyes filled with tears and Prussia almost felt bad for the spineless wimp.

"That's great," Gilbert said. "Hey, Russia, did you happen to bring any vodka?"

The bear smiled unnervingly. "Why, yes, _moy droog_. Would you like some?"

"Er," Prussia stammered. "Y-yeah. That'd be great, actually."

Russia smiled and reached into his bear costume. He pulled out an unopened bottle of vodka.

"Here you are," Russia said, proffering it to Prussia. "Do not drink it all at once. I know vodka makes you do… unusual things."

Prussia blushed like a madman and snatched the bottle. "It does not! Don't say such weird things in front of a kid!"

Latvia trembled and Russia chuckled. "Little Latvia understands. The first time he snuck into my liquor cabinet he did quite a few embarrassing things himself. Truly, Latvia, I had not known you were so well educated in invasion techniques!"

Latvia squeaked. "That's a lie, Russia! I didn't do that!"

"Kolkolkol," Russia laughed. "I tease, I tease."

Prussia scowled angrily at the (creepy) asshole. "Well, thanks for the vodka, Russia. I'll just be…"

Prussia tried to roll away, but Russia stuck his foot in the spokes of the wheel and stood up. "Where are you going so fast?" he asked. "We were about to start the party."

"P-party?" Gilbert stammered.

"Da," Russia smiled. "The party. Would you like to party with us? It is more fun with three people than with two."

Prussia moved as far back in his wheel chair as he possibly could. "I…I…"

"Kolkolkol," Russia laughed. "Do not be ungrateful, _moy daragohy_. Stay with us and join our party."

"I don't really…"

Russia pulled the wheel chair closer to him and Prussia squeaked. "I know you will like to party with Russia. And if you have fun, perhaps you will like to become one with Russia once more, da?"

"D-don't… Help!"

Spain and France appeared at the door. "Gilbert, _run!_"

"He's got my wheelchair!" Prussia yelled back.

"You aren't actually crippled, you idiot!"

"Oh," Prussia said. "Yeah." He stood up and, cradling the hard-won vodka, ran out of the room.

Russia, stared after him in disappointment. "Oh… I suppose it is just you and me after all, Latvia."

Latvia squeaked as Russia put a paper party hat on his head.

"Now then," Russia smiled. "Go fish?"

…

The trio ran until they were out of breath, right outside the main party room.

"O…kay." Spain panted. "That went… better than I thought."

"You guys," Prussia panted. "You guys are assholes. You _know_ I hate Russia."

"Sorry, _cher_," France said. "We didn't realize you were still so afraid of him."

"I'm not afraid!" Prussia shouted. "That guy just makes me want to puke blood! I hate him!"

Spain took the bottle of vodka. "Well, the important thing is we have the alcohol now. We just have to find a way to slip it to Austria without him realizing."

"Francis," Gilbert said. "We refer to your expertise in the matter. How do you slip something unexpected in someone's drink?"

"Someone peek inside," France said. "What do his defenses look like?"

Prussia and Spain slowly peered into the enormous room and gasped. The entire party was sitting around the raised stage area. The piano had been moved. In its place, Japan stood with a microphone, singing a vaguely familiar and utterly ridiculous song.

"They're doing karaoke!" Spain whispered.

"_Oui_," France said. "You made one of the notes on the piano flat. Austria does not play under those conditions."

"That means… it worked!" Gilbert whispered. He high-fived Spain.

"Yes, yes," France said impatiently. "Defenses."

"Right." Antonio said.

Prussia spotted Austria. "There! Back of the crowd! He's… _shiesse!_"

"What? What is it?"

Prussia pointed at Hungary. "She's got her Mama Lion look! Dude, we'll never be able to get close to him like that!"

Spain looked at the vodka. "Wait. If I remember correctly, Austria always makes a special punch that no one ever touches except him."

"Why doesn't anyone ever drink it?" Prussia said.

"It's got Squirt in it," Spain shrugged. "As far as I know, he's the only one who likes Squirt."

Prussia grinned. "That's perfect! We just slip the vodka in his special punch and wait! You're a genius, Toni!"

The trio snuck into the room as Japan started singing another song. Hungary snapped her head at them and guarded Austria protectively. Almost everyone else watched Japan, bored.

Prussia flipped Hungary off and the trio found their way to the punch bowls.

"Alright, dude," Gilbert said to Spain. "Go for it. Francis, help me guard him."

By this time, Elizaveta stood up suspiciously. She walked slowly to trio.

"Dude, hurry!" Gilbert said. "Psycho Hungarian at… um, now!"

"Got it! Done!" Spain said. He stuffed the empty vodka bottle in France's ridiculous wig and faced Hungary.

"Liz!" Spain said pleasantly. "How are you enjoying the party?"

"What are you three doing?" she demanded.

"Just… getting a drink," Prussia said.

"_Ma couer_," France smiled. "You are so needlessly suspicious."

Hungary glared at them. "Gil, would you mind getting me a cup of punch?"

Prussia jumped. "Um, s-sure…" He reached for the ladle.

"No, not that one," Hungary said. "The Squirt punch."

"What?" Gilbert panicked. "But… you _hate_ Squirt!"

"It's growing on me," Hungary blushed. "You mind?"

"No!" Gilbert said. "Hang on! You can't just hate something one day and love it the next! It doesn't work like that!"

Hungary blew a strand of hair from her face and Prussia gulped. "I'm a woman, Gilbert. I can hate and love whatever I want. Now can you pour me some punch or is there something you don't want me to know about Austria's punch?"

"O-of course not! I just don't think you should be basing your opinions on whether or not Austria likes it!"

Elizaveta turned red. "Gilbert, punch me or I'll punch you."

Prussia turned around slowly and mechanically poured Hungary a cup of punch. Spain squeaked and paled. Hungary snatched it from Gilbert's hand and sipped it. She gagged.

"S-something wrong?" France said.

"N-no," Hungary said. "It's delicious. I love Squirt."

The trio looked at each other. "Really?" Prussia said.

"Mm," Hungary nodded. "Totally. I'm just gonna go…"

"Wait," Prussia smirked. "I don't believe you."

"You don't _what?_"

"I don't believe you. You're not making it very convincing."

"What are you talking about?" Hungary blushed.

Prussia quirked an eyebrow. "I don't think you actually like Squirt. I think you're doing this because you think it bothers me."

"I do _so_ like Squirt!"

"Prove it," Prussia said. "Go on, drink. You look thirsty."

Hungary scowled. "I-I am not!"

"So why did you walk all the way over here for punch?"

Hungary glared at Prussia and sipped the punch. She winced.

"Mm," she said. "Yummy."

"Is it good?" Gilbert smirked.

"Really good."

"Let me get you another cup."

Prussia smirked as he poured another cup. He handed it to her. "In case you get thirsty later too," he said.

Hungary glared at the ground and walked back to Austria. The trio nearly ran out of the room.

"HAH!" Prussia cackled. "Her ridiculous man-pride won't let her admit that it tasted weird! She didn't even realize there was vodka!"

Spain covered his face. "Gilbert, I screwed up! I put the vodka in the other punch bowl!"

Prussia turned slowly to his friend. "…what?"

"I mixed up which was Squirt and which was Sprite! The Squirt punch was clean!"

Prussia and Spain slapped their foreheads. "How could you mix those up?" France said.

"Squirt's the nasty one!" Gilbert yelled.

"I'm sorry!"

The trio went back and peered into the party room. The countries were quickly drinking the spiked punch and growing excited. America took the next karaoke song, to Japan's relief, and sang a very loud Katy Perry song. Others began to clap along and join him on the chorus.

"Wow," Prussia said.

"That's going to get interesting real fast," Spain marveled.

France squealed. "Look at my little _Mathieu!_ He's trying to dance!"

Hungary spotted the trio at the door and pointed at them accusingly. They ran away before she could stomp toward them.


	5. PruHun fans may rejoice and drink beer

**Happy Halloween! Much love, my pandas! I hope tonight is filled with candy and costumes and glory! **

**Sorry to anyone who couldn't comment on the last chapter. I removed the trailer chapter so FF was being retarded.**

**Thank you, Aksel, for making my night! I love when people tell me I'm awesome!**

**I own neither Hetalia, nor Halloween.**

Prussia, France and Spain ran out of the room and down the hall. They took turns, kept running, took a few more random turns and ran until they were out of breath and laughing.

"Dude," Prussia cackled. "How big is Austria's house!"

"I know, right?" cried Spain.

France chuckled and straightened his wig. "I have no idea where we are."

"Dammit," Prussia smiled. "I wanted to see everyone get drunk! That's _so_ much blackmail opportunity!

Spain grinned and looked around. "I think we're close to Austria's bedroom."

"Oh, good!" Prussia said. "Let's split up and find it! That's perfect blackmail!"

Spain and France ran to one end of the long hallway and Prussia ran to the other. He opened a closet and a bathroom. He threw open another door and froze at the familiar chuckle.

"Kolkolkolkolkol," Russia laughed. "Look, Latvia. Little Prussia is back to play with us!"

Prussia backed away from the door as the man in the bear suit stood up. "N-nein, Ivan… I'm j-just looking for the bathroom…."

"Let me help you find it," Russia smiled, walking toward Gilbert. "I believe I know where it is."

Prussia backed into the wall and looked around desperately for Francis and Antonio, but they had disappeared. "N-nein, that's okay."

Russia was closing in on Gilbert when the screeching voice of an angel shredded his ears.

"GILBERT! WHERE ARE YOU!"

"LIZ!" Prussia yelled out in relief. "I'm over here! Let us make haste to the party, ja?"

Hungary appeared at the end of the hall in a cloud of anger and confusion. Prussia abandoned Russia and ran to her.

"Lead the way, dear witch! We haven't a moment to lose!"

Elizaveta raised an eyebrow. "Boy," she murmured. "Russia makes you pathetically weird."

"Shut up, I am not."

Hungary grabbed Prussia's wrist and strode down the hall. "You're staying where I can keep an eye on you. Let's go, ass face."

…

"Did you hear something?" Francis asked as he jumped on Austria's bed.

"No," Spain said. "Why?"

…

Hungary led Prussia back to the party room. All the countries were sitting in a large circle while Japan explained one of his games to them.

"Okay," Japan said. "Here's how 'Osama' works."

"We got him!" America shouted, and gleefully took another swig of punch.

England smacked him. "Alfred, Kiku was explaining the rules of the game!"

America grinned. "I _know_ how to play. I already won!"

England and Canada rolled their eyes and motioned for Japan to continue.

"The way to play 'Osama'-"

"Got him!"

"-is everyone draws a Popsicle stick with either a number or a crown on it. The person with the crown is the King and he or she can choose a random number to do whatever he or she pleases. You cannot tell anyone your number until the dare is issued and there are no vetoes."

Poland squealed in delight. "Ohmigawd, _anything_? That is, like, the best game ever!"

"That sounds potentially dangerous," Hungary frowned.

Prussia couldn't resist the evil laugh. "Hah! You don't have the guts, do you?"

Hungary's face snapped into kill-Prussia-mode. "On the other hand," she hissed, "yes. Let's do this."

Prussia snuck a glance at the clock. Whatever Spain and France had planned, it was taking forever.

…

"So what's the plan?" Spain asked France as they shuffled through drawers in Austria's bedroom.

"Plan?"

…

Japan held out a handful of Popsicle sticks. "Everyone take one, and don't let anyone see. Whoever has the crown may raise their hand."

Everyone took a stick. Japan looked at the one left in his hand and nodded. "Alright. Who is King?"

Prussia looked down at the Popsicle stick in his palm and gave a start. "Um," he said, "the crown means king, right?"

"That's right," Japan smiled.

"Heh… heh heh… HAHAHA!"

Germany slapped his face as his brother leapt to his feet in maniacal celebration.

"MORTALS! Bow before the awesome Prussia! Kneel before my awesome power! HAHAHA!"

Hungary smacked him. "It's a game, idiot. Sit down and play."

Gilbert smirked ear to ear. "Liz, what number do you have?"

"What? I'm not telling you, stupid!"

"I'm King! You gotta! How else am I gonna dare you to do something embarrassing?"

Hungary smacked her forehead. "You just missed the point of the game completely, idiot. You have to pick someone without knowing who it is."

Gilbert pouted. "Crap."

"Hurry up and go so we can all play."

Prussia sat down. "Fine. Down a cup of Squirt punch, number… seven."

"DAMMIT!" Hungary shouted. Austria shot her a look.

"Aw, crap!" Gilbert yelled. "Can I pick something else for her to do? I totally had something awesome in mind!"

Hungary grumbled as Italy happily leapt to his feet and fetched her a cup. She glared at Prussia as she drained the glass, finishing with a grimace and a gag.

"There!" she yelled. "Screw you, asshole!"

"Don't know why you're shouting," Gilbert shouted back. "I thought you _liked_ Squirt!"

"It's… it's the principle!"

Everyone handed Japan their sticks and he shuffled them. When everyone drew, Poland squealed in delight and Lithuania winced at the noise.

"Epic!" he laughed. "Okay, gay chicken- six and three. Go!"

Romano and Austria looked at each other and jumped.

"HELL no!" Romano shouted.

"Think of something else, Feliks," Austria said

Poland stuck out his tongue. "No vetoes! Loser has to do whatever the winner says tomorrow! Go!"

Romano and Austria sized each other up.

"I _do_ need my kitchen cleaned," Austria thought out loud.

"I fucking hate you," Romano said.

…

Spain sneezed and shot up off Austria's bed in alarm.

"What is it?" France said.

"My Roma senses are tingling! Get your things, Francis. _We ride._"

…

Romano and Austria sat themselves in the middle of the circle, glaring at everyone and refusing to look at each other.

Poland laughed. "We don't have all day, fellas!"

Both men shot the vampire/sparkle fairy/Poland a glare. Austria's hand moved imperceptibly to rest on Romano's thigh and Romano squeaked.

"Surrender," Austria murmured as he closed in on Romano's face. "It's only a kitchen."

…

Spain touched his forehead as he and France ran down the hall. "His defenses are weakening! We have to hurry!"

"How do you even know that?" France shouted.

…

"Surrender," Austria whispered as he closed the gap between his lips and Romano's. He closed his eyes. Slowly, their lips met. Austria decided to wait. It was only a matter of time before Romano gave into his Italian instincts and fled. His pride wouldn't let him stay too long.

But something was wrong. Romano wasn't retreating with that ridiculous ninja-turtle tail between his legs. No, he was- _kissing back!_

Austria tried to muffle his shout of surprise as Romano slipped his tongue inside his mouth. Austria felt Romano climb into his lap and wrap his arms around his neck. He ground his hips into Austria and in shock, Austria broke away.

"Good lord, Romano, what has gotten into you?"

There was a familiar laugh and Austria felt his stomach tighten.

"Don't touch my Lovi, _amigo_," the orange-masked turtle said. "There are consequences."

Austria looked at Spain in bewilderment. "Antonio? You're in the turtle costume… How did you…?"

…

When Romano came to his senses, he was being jostled around, watching the door to the party get smaller and smaller, then disappear around a corner. He examined himself. He was somehow wearing Spain's Zorro costume.

"How did he manage to switch costumes without me noticing?" Romano wondered aloud as whoever was carrying him ran. He heard a chuckle and looked up.

"F-Francis?"

France winked at him and laughed. "Don't tell me you are not impressed with my skills."

"Oh, HELL no!" Romano yelled. "ANTONIO, YOU BASTARD! THIS IS WORSE THAN AUSTRIA!"

…

"You keep underestimating my friends," Spain winked at Austria. "Francis is a ninja when it comes to getting people in and out of clothes."

Gilbert laughed and the rest of the circle stared at Spain in awe.

Poland furrowed his brow, confused. "I'm… I'm not sure who wins…."

Lithuania rolled his eyes. "Feliks, the only way to win gay chicken is not to play. They all lost."

"But... that means… _I_ win!" Poland's eyes lit up and he grinned.

"Yes you do," Lithuania smiled.

Everyone handed Japan their Popsicle sticks and drew again.

Spain looked down at his stick and raised his hand. Japan smiled at him.

"What does "B" mean in Osama?" Spain asked

"Got him!" America cheered and drained his cup.

Prussia looked over and groaned. "That's a "13," dude," Gilbert said. "It's your number."

"Oooooh," Spain said and blushed.

Japan looked at his stick and cleared his throat. "I have the crown," he said. "My dare is… 4 and 9 must dance to the next song on 3's playlist."

America cheered and whipped out his iPod. "Right here, y'all!"

Prussia groaned. "I've got 9," he said.

There was an angry squeak nearby and Prussia looked at a white-skinned Hungary.

"What's your problem?" he asked.

Hungary shook her head and sat on her hands. Prussia's eyes widened.

"WELL," Gilbert said loudly, "It looks like no one drew 4! Try again, everyone!"

Hungary nodded violently and kept her lips tightened. Poland glared at Prussia.

"Of course someone drew 4," Poland said. "Don't be stupid. Who is it?"

The countries held up their sticks and called off. Japan counted them.

"One through thirteen," he said to himself. "But four _is_ missing. Elizaveta-chan, where is your popsicle stick?"

Hungary squeaked. "I… lost it?"

"She lost it," Prussia agreed. "Sorry, it's gone. Well, let's all try again!"

Poland pinched Hungary's butt and she jumped with a yelp. "Here it is," Poland said coolly. "She was sitting on it."

"WAS NOT!" Hungary and Prussia yelled together.

"It's four, too!" Poland cackled suddenly. "Ohmigawd, they have to dance together! Everyone get your cameras out!"

"DIE!" Prussia tried to lunge at Poland, but Spain caught him.

"Calm yourself, _amigo_," Spain said quietly. "One dance. Just one, and perhaps that will give Francis enough time to ready the prank."

Gilbert looked up at Antonio in surprise. "You mean… you guys actually _do_ have a plan?"

"Me?" Spain said. "No. I'm here. But maybe France is clever enough to set something up by himself."

"Do you realize what you just said?" Prussia cried.

Meanwhile, Poland was having the same conversation with Hungary, except he had a lot more blackmail at his disposal.

"I'll tell him what you wrote in your diary," Poland said gleefully.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hungary hissed. "You've got nothing."

Poland reached into his man-bag. "I photocopy blackmail and I carry it around wherever I go just in case. And Liet told me I'd never use it!"

Lithuania frowned apologetically at Hungary as Poland pulled a binder out of his bejeweled man-bag. "April 15th," Poland said. "Right here."

Hungary paled. "You're bluffing. You'd never show him that."

"You really wanna take that chance?" Poland smirked. "Cuz I also have all those doodles you draw during world meetings. And some of them are, like… _super_ X-rated."

Hungary stood up suddenly. "FINE!" she yelled. "Gilbert, one dance! Now!"

Prussia stood up angrily. "Fine! Like I even care!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

The two stomped over to the dance floor and waited as America fit his iPod into Japan's speakers. They glared at each other.

A familiar guitar solo floated through the air and Prussia and Hungary leapt away from each other.

"No way!" Hungary shouted.

"Why is that song even on your iPod?" Prussia yelled at America.

America shrugged and paused the music. "Stevie Nicks kicks ass. Hater."

"Pick something else!"

Japan shook his head. "The dare was the next song on the playlist. I'm afraid you have to."

Hungary shook in anger. "But-!"

"DOODLES!" Poland yelled.

"GRAH!" Hungary grabbed Prussia's shoulders. Prussia yelled out in fear, but after a few seconds he realized Hungary was doing nothing violent and he opened his eyes. Hungary was glaring at the floor, face an unbelievably adorable red. He blushed.

"Landslide" filtered through the speakers again and Prussia tried to find an acceptable place to put his hands. He hovered his palms over Liz's hips, then waist, then back. She bit her lip a snickered at his hopeless confusion as Stevie Nicks' voice filled the room.

"_Took my love and I took it down._"

Prussia finally placed his hands high on Hungary's back and tried to lead. They stumbled around each other for a second and Liz stopped him, exasperated.

"Are you trying to lead?" she asked.

"Duh- I'm the man!"

Hungary rolled her eyes and the song filled the air. "You can't lead from the top of my back, tard. Put your hands on my waist."

Prussia blushed. "Your _waist_?"

"Fine," Hungary said. "_I'll_ lead." She tried to put her arms around Gilbert's waist and he leapt back, mortified.

"F-fine, I'll lead from your waist!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"_Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?_"

Gilbert stepped awkwardly around in the most basic waltz he knew. Hungary let him lead and occasionally readjusted her hold on his neck. They tried to ignore the camera phones and the snickering from the rest of the party, but it was difficult.

"_Can the child within my heart rise above?_"

Prussia tentatively raised his eyes too look at Hungary's face. She was blushing harder than he ever remembered her. He smiled.

"That dress is really pretty," he whispered.

Hungary shot a withering glare at him. "You're pushing your luck, Gilbert," she hissed.

"I'm just saying," Gilbert whispered as soulful guitar played on. "You've looked a lot worse."

"_That_ is not sweet. In any sense of the word."

Prussia spun Hungary around experimentally. She let him. "Sorry," he whispered. "Let me rephrase that. You've worn worse costumes."

"Like what?" Hungary whispered.

"Like when we were kids and you tried to be an actual witch?"

Hungary smiled slightly. "And those villagers chased me for a mile because they thought I was going to eat their children?"

Prussia laughed and kept dancing.

"_Well I've been 'fraid of changing cuz I built my life around you._"

"Remember how I awesomely saved your ass?" Prussia murmured in Hungary's ear.

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Your solution was to actually bite someone's kid."

"Stopped chasing you, though, didn't they?"

Hungary laughed and Prussia dipped her playfully.

"And I saved your ass with an actual getaway horse," Hungary grinned. "Because that's how normal people rescue their friends."

Prussia rolled his eyes. "Normal's overrated."

Hungary smiled and pulled herself closer to Prussia. Guitar swelled.

"You look really great tonight," Prussia whispered.

"What, like, I'm a convincing witch?"

Gilbert smiled. "That too."

The smile fell from Hungary's face. "Wait, what do you mean?"

Gilbert spun Liz and smiled secretively. "What do you mean, 'what do I mean?'"

"_Well I've been 'fraid of changing cuz I built my life around you. But time makes us bolder, children get older, I'm getting older too._"

Gilbert pulled Liz in close. "I mean you look beautiful tonight. Duh."

Hungary blushed. "W-what?"

Gilbert laughed. "You should see your face! I didn't know it was possible for you to blush so hard!"

Hungary smacked him. "You jerk! You don't just say stuff like that because you think it's funny!"

Prussia shrugged. "Sorry. I didn't realize it was gonna be funny."

"_Take my love, take it down._"

Hungary bit her lip and glared over Prussia's shoulder.

"_Oh, climb a mountain and turn around_."

Prussia whispered something quietly and Hungary looked at him.

"What?"

"_If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills, well the landslide will bring you down, down._"

"I said," Gilbert whispered quietly, "that I miss you.

Hungary felt her face burn.

"_And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills…_"

"Liz?"

"_Well maybe the landslide will bring it down._"

"Liz."

"_Oh, oh, the landslide will bring it down._"

Hungary felt her face move closer to Prussia's. Gilbert blushed. They swayed back and forth to nonexistent music.

Prussia felt Hungary's breath on his lips and leaned in slowly.

"_Woah-oh-oh, yeah yeah yeah…_"

Prussia and Hungary leapt away from each other in humiliation as America laughed.

"Haha! _Friday_! Why does this seem like a good song right now?"

"Because you're drunk?" Canada suggested.

"You _idiots!_" England seethed. "You absolute mood killers! They were so close!"

"Close to what?" America said obliviously.

Hungary and Prussia shot each other a nasty look and tried to get as far away from each other as possible. Spain gave him a thumbs-up and Gilbert flipped him the bird.

"Shut up, England," Hungary growled. "We weren't doing anything."

England smiled condescendingly. "Of course not, love. Of course not."

Just as Hungary opened her mouth, the doorbell rang.


	6. This announcement will make you cry

*coughs.*

Right. Um. This is not a chapter. This is an announcement from Cro.

Devil's Night is on hiatus until further notice. For several reasons. 1) School is draining my fun creative energy mostly. 2) I've been too dark lately to make this as fun as it should be. 3) Hetaween made me realize I should try a Halloween story when it's not in season so Hima-Papa doesn't epically own my ass.

I'm sorry.

I'll still be posting in Cro's College Adventures when something Hetalia-esque happens in my life, and I'll do the occasional one-shot, but for now Devil's Night is on the backburner.

Also. If you have a boner for majorly uber dark fics. I've written something that practically leaks horrible things about Cold War Prussia. I've decided not to put it on this account because this is a safe place, so I used my pseudonym account. No I'm not telling you the name. But if you like those horrible, horrible dark fics, know that it's out there right now. And I respond to all reviews, so if you review that story and I recognize your name, you get a lollipop.

Again, I'm sorry. I want to come back to Devil's Night later when I've gotten happy and sunshiney again, but right now I'm afraid I'll ruin it.

I love you all!

~Cro


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